


Recuérdame

by Antares_28



Series: Sanvers Family [13]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares_28/pseuds/Antares_28
Summary: "From that moment, Laura Sawyer had treated Maggie as her own daughter, celebrating birthdays and Christmases with her, always inviting her to join the family, and she had even been there the day she had graduated from the Police Academy. That was the first time she had told her to her face that she considered her to be another daughter to her though she had already been acting like that for years. Just actually hearing the words had left Maggie near tears. So, she had decided to change her surname, taking her aunt's one."Or, the one in which Maggie deals with her aunt's death.





	Recuérdame

**Author's Note:**

> One year ago, today, my beloved grandmother passed away. Some of my best childhood memories are related to the time I spent with her and she had been one of the most important people in my life. She used to live with me so, when she passed away, it was hard. But that’s the circle of life, and quoting J.K. Rowling, “The ones who love us never really leave us, you can always find them in here”.  
> I’ve been thinking about this fic for a while now, and so today seemed the right moment.
> 
> The quotes in italics, as well as this work's title, are from Disney-Pixar movie "Coco".

  
  
  


_ “Remember me _

_ Though I have to say goodbye _

_ Remember me _

_ Don't let it make you cry _

_ For ever if I'm far away _

_ I hold you in my heart _

_ I sing a secret song to you _

_ Each night we are apart _

_ Remember me.” _

* * *

 

 

For the last years of her life, she had lived outside of the city, about thirty minutes away in a quiet, small town in a small house with perfectly pruned rose bushes and luscious green grass that she paid the boy next door to cut for her. Maggie Sawyer stands on the front porch, under the overhanging roof as the rain pours down in torrents, leaning a shoulder against one of the porch posts. She’s been away from Nebraska for too long, she realizes, because she can't stand the cold anymore. There, it’s fresher in a way, cleaner, and it creeps up your nose and nestles in your lungs and like Alex says, it smells like trees. Here, though, the rain gives her a headache.   
She wears a dark suit but sometime throughout the day, she lost her jacket and has rolled the sleeves of her crisp white button down shirt to her elbows. Her fingers lightly grasp the rim of a glass, hanging at her side. She swirls the small of scotch in circles, rolling it around the insides. She took a sip when she first poured it but now, her throat is dry and alcohol won’t quench it. The front door is open and through the screen door, she can hear murmurs of voices but she can’t hear any of them clearly. They all returned to the house after the cemetery for lunch but it’s a funeral tradition she’s never understood. They just put her in the ground not less than two hours earlier and now, they eat and talk as if it’s already a distant memory. She's not hungry.   
She thinks of her own parents, alive and probably well back in Blue Springs, in the same house they had always lived in. She hasn’t talked to them in years and she has no urge to – not even now. They know she’s married and that they have a granddaughter but that’s the extent of her life that her aunt had informed them of and it isn’t as if they’ve been taking flights out to National City to meet their daughter-in-law and grandbaby and to see their own,  _ their only _ , daughter. She wonders how it will be when they die. Would she be expected to be there? Maybe yes, at least to handle their affairs and estate, to make arrangements and to see to everything. Already, she isn’t looking forward to that. She doesn’t even know them and has no emotional connection to either of them – not like she had had with her.

The screen door opens, creaking on its hinges, before slapping shut again against its frame. She doesn’t turn around. Even with the rain falling, she can smell the faint whiff of her perfume. She’s been giving her space all day while at the same time, never leaving her side, silently stating that she is right there if she needs her. But now, with the obligations of the day passed, she is approaching her.   
She moves the glass of scotch from one hand to the other, sliding it on the wide wooden railing of the porch painted white. Both she and Alex don't really drink anymore – not that much since their daughter's arrival – but she had taken the drink from her cousin out of respect or perhaps because it is just what a person does while at a funeral luncheon. Maggie can’t be sure. She just knows she doesn’t want it near it anymore.   
Just like Maggie herself, Alex is wearing heels too and they tap against the wooden planks as she approaches. Maggie turns her head to look at her and Alex stops as if she’s caught her doing something she shouldn’t. Her dress is simple and black and since the cemetery, she’s pulled her long auburn hair back into a knot at the base of her neck. 

They have a daughter, Zola, who’s already four, and they’ve decided to try for another one. They’re not worried, taking a very relaxed approached to the topic and they don't know yet if they want to opt for adoption again or try IVF. Nevertheless, they both know they don’t want Zola to be an only child like Maggie had been.   
Alex hesitates and then she opens her arm to her. Maggie sighs and closes the distance between them, going to her wife. Her arm wraps around her shoulders and she tugs her into her side, holding her close. Maggie wraps both arms around her waist and her cheek rests on her chest. They are quiet, standing together and watching the rain. They have a room at the Hilton hotel at the edge of town, next to the expressway, and a part of Maggie just wants to just go back there for the rest of the day so she can lay on the bed and cuddle with her family.   
“Zola’s making all of the other children jealous with her stories of Supergirl,” Alex then says quietly and for the first time that day, Maggie feel herself smiling. Alex rests her cheek on top of her head and exhales heavily. “You haven’t eaten anything all day,” she tells her in the same quiet tone and Maggie knows it well. She isn’t trying to push her or be a nag. She’s worried though and treading carefully.   
“I’ll eat something,” she says but it’s not a promise. She's not hungry.   
“They have pozole,” Alex tells her, pulling her head back and tilting it up to look at her. “Amy said that it used to be one of her mom’s favorite things. I had some. It’s really delicious.”   
Maggie nods because she knows. Seeing the large bowl of it earlier in the kitchen had made her chest hurt. No, she definitely doesn’t want any of that. “And is soup the only thing you’ve eaten?” She asks, wanting the attention off of her for a second.“I’ve been talking and keeping an eye on Zola. And you,” she adds, still looking up at her. “I haven’t been that hungry either,” she then confesses with a quiet sigh. “Did you see the pictures inside that Amy set up? I love the ones of you and Laura. And there are a couple from the baby shower she threw for us for Zola.”   
“I saw.” There is a knot forming in her throat and she looks out towards the street again, to the rain. Actually, while inside, she had done everything she could to avoid the pictures.   
“Will you come sit with me?” Alex asks and she takes a step away from her, taking hold of her hand with both of hers.   
There’s a porch swing and Maggie nods, following her. They sit down together, Alex keeping her feet firmly on the ground so it’s steady as they settle. Maggie removes her heels and then tucks her legs up and it’s natural the way Alex's arm rests around her shoulders and Maggie nestles into her side. They’ve been married for seven years now and a lot of the things they do together are natural, their interaction and moves practiced and perfected. They don’t talk – Maggie not wanting to and Alex knowing this. She leaves her to her thoughts but she’s right there if she needs her and to Maggie, that’s more than enough. Despite flying across the country and attending the wake and then the church service and burial, there’s still a part of her that can’t believe she’s gone. She had always been one of those woman who had so much life to her, dying had never seemed fathomable to those who knew her.   
She had always had such an active role in her life, after her father had abandoned her on her front porch. From that moment, Laura Sawyer had treated Maggie as her own daughter, celebrating birthdays and Christmases with her, always inviting her to join the family, and she had even been there the day she had graduated from the Police Academy. That was the first time she had told her to her face that she considered her to be another daughter to her though she had already been acting like that for years. Just actually hearing the words had left Maggie near tears. So, she had decided to change her surname, taking her aunt's one.   
And then, after she and Alex got married and adopted Zola, she came out to National City to help out in any way she could. She was the only family she had ever known and a real grandmother for Zola, just like Eliza Danvers.     
“I kind of want to go back to the hotel,” Maggie says before she realizes it, lifting her head.   
“Okay,” Alex whispers and raises her hands and Maggie closes her eyes, feeling too emotional for her tender touch as she wipes at her cheeks. They’re damp and Maggie realizes that she’s been crying. Alex whispers her name, “Oh, Mags,” and then sitting up a bit more, she wraps her arms tightly around her, hugging her . “It’s okay, sweetie,” she tells her softly in her ear and Maggie exhales a shaky breath.   
She turns her face towards the side of her neck, pressing it there, feeling more tears form as she hugs her. She's embarrassed to cry, even now in this particular situation where most people would find crying to perfectly acceptable. She's never felt comfortable with crying. She doubts that she had even done it when she had been a baby. Somehow, being in Alex’s embrace, feeling her warm breath in her ears with her soft, soothing words of comfort, it only makes it worse. She makes her feel like she could collapse and that it would be okay.   
The screen door creaks and then slaps shut again. Alex gives Maggie a kiss on her temple and her cheek as she pulls her head back and she wipes at her cheeks for her again. Turning, they both see their daughter rushing towards them. Much like her mommy, she had been wearing a dark velvet dress but she apparently lost her shoes and is just wearing her white tights. Even though Zola isn’t their biological daughter she definitely is their daughter, having Maggie’s smirk and Alex’s curious attitude.   
“Hi,” she says, sounding breathless, and without prelude, scrambles up onto Maggie’s lap.   
“Have you been having fun with your cousins, Zozo?” Alex asks, making a futile attempt at smoothing down the lock of hair sticking up on the back of her head.   
“Phoebe is jealous,” she boasts proudly with a smug smile.   
She then holds up her left wrist where she is wearing a bracelet with the House of El crest, a present from Supergirl herself. Zora doesn’t obviously know that her aunt Kara and Supergirl are basically the same person, since she’s too young to keep this secret. Nevertheless, Supergirl definitely has a very important role in the child’s life. For only being four, Zola has had quite the adventurous life so far.   
“Michael has  always been jealous so it doesn’t surprise me his daughter is, too,” Maggie comments. Her eyes are closed and her head is resting against the house behind the swing.   
“Still, you shouldn’t purposely make people jealous, Zola,” Alex tells her.   
Zola frowns. “She was bragging to me about going to New York all of the time. Mama, what does spoiled me?”   
“Were you calling Phoebe spoiled or was she calling you spoiled?” Maggie asks, opening her eyes to look at her.   
“She was saying I was spoiled,” Zola tells them.   
“Well, I have a few choice words to call her,” Maggie smirks and it still amazes her just how being around her wife and her daughter can relax and calm her. Even today, of all days, they have that power over her and she can never tell them how much she loves them for it.   
“ _ Maggie _ ,” Alex laughs a little, mostly out of shock. “She’s eight,” she then reminds her though they both know that she perfectly well knows how old Phoebe, her cousin's daughter, is. “That wasn’t very nice of her,” Alex then says to Zola. “Some people… when they want what others have, they can be very mean about it. And not everybody gets to have dinner with Supergirl almost twice a week.”   
“Yep. I’m so much cooler than her,” Zola grins, showing off her teeth, and Maggie grins too, showing off her dimples. She looks at Alex, wondering how she’ll respond to that but she seems to have given up and resumes trying to smooth down her constantly unruly hair. 

“Mama?” Zola turns her head and looks back up at Maggie. “I don’t like it here,” she then says. “It’s sad.”   
Maggie feels a tickling in her nose and a clenching in her throat. She releases a shaky breath and in the back of her mind, she knows maybe she’s squeezing her arm too tightly around Alex’s shoulders but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, Maggie closes her eyes and she feels her wife's fingers stroking gently through her hair. She doubts it will help make her feel better like it always does every other time but she lets her do it anyway because Alex touching her is always so much better than Alex not touching her.   
“Let’s get out of here,” Alex whispers and Maggie nods. Alex kisses her cheek and then wraps her arms around her in a tight squeeze. “Come on, Zola. Let’s go get you put together again. We’ll head back to the hotel.” 

She stood up, the swing rocking slightly with the loss of her.   
“Zola,” Maggie says and she clears her throat, her voice sounding gruff. And then, she hugs her. There’s something inside of her that has to hug her daughter in that moment and not let go. Zola rests her chin on her shoulder and Maggie closes her eyes, holding her a little too tightly and she knows he should probably loosen her hold but she can’t seem to.   
“It’s okay, mama,” Zola says softly, patting Maggie on the back, and Maggie is about to start crying again at the sound of her four-year-old daughter trying to comfort her .   
Alex senses it and when Maggie’s arms go limp, she lifts Zola from her lap and sets her  down again. Maggie immediately slips her heels back on and stands up, walking to the railing of the porch, staring out towards the rain again, trying to bring herself under control again. It is one thing to lose it and cry in front of Alex. She doesn’t want her own child seeing her emotional like this. Maggie isn’t used to being so out of sorts like this and she doesn’t know what to do.   
The screen door opens and slaps shut again and looking over her shoulder, she sees Alex standing there but she has sent Zola into the house.   
Maggie stares at her. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she then tells her.   
Alex steps to her and if she’s surprised when Maggie sweeps her up in her arms and kisses her, she doesn’t act like it. She kisses her passionately, her tongue begging for entrance and Alex opens her mouth against hers, her fingers in her hair, tugging on it gently as the kiss manages to intensify. Maggie turns them and presses her back against one of the porch posts and all she wants to do is keep kissing her, trying to crawl into her body if possible and seek refuge there. Alex always knows what to do. She always takes care of her and right now, Maggie just needs her to more than anything.   
Alex moans softly and murmurs her name and Maggie slowly pulls her lips away but she doesn’t go far. She brushes them along her cheek, hearing her labored breathing panting in her ear, and her hand curves around the back of her neck as she kisses the corner of her jaw. Alex smells sweet and like rain and Maggie presses her face to the side of her throat, inhaling her.   
“You’re not doing anything wrong if you cry in front of Zola,” Alex tells her quietly, her fingers scratching through the hairs on the back of her head as Maggie rests her head on her shoulder. “I don’t want our daughter to grow up, thinking that adults shouldn’t be able to cry.”   
Maggie shakes her head. “I just don’t want her to see me like this right now.”   
Alex turns her lips and kisses her forehead. “She loved you so much, Maggie,” she whispered and Maggie feels a stinging in her eyes. She closes them, swallowing at the scratching in her throat. “Do you remember Zola’s first Christmas? Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and it was Laura,” Alex smiles at the memory and Maggie feels her own smile trying to break through. “We had no idea she was coming and she said that she wanted it to be a surprise. She had come to see you, Maggie.”   
“She wanted to see Zola…” Maggie tries to say but Alex cuts her off.   
“She came to see  _ you _ ,” she says. “Me and your aunt are the only two to know just how much you actually love Christmas despite all of your grumblings,” she teases and this time, the smile forms across Maggie’s lips and settles there. “She had just flown across the country and went right into the kitchen and began making you chocolate chip pancakes because it was your Christmas tradition. She sometimes made me feel so insufficient as your wife,” Alex then laughs a little, shaking her head.   
Maggie lifts her to look at her. “What are you talking about?”   
“Oh, it’s nothing horrible. I loved having a mother-in-law. She was the best,” Alex assures her  and in the back of her mind, there’s a prick at how easy Alex already seems to be able to talk about Laura Sawyer in the past tense. But she is right. Everything with her aunt is in the past now. 

“That morning in particular, I just felt like an awful wife for not being the one in the kitchen, making you your Christmas chocolate chip pancakes,” Alex lifts a hand to her cheek, her fingers brushing against her cheekbone. “Not that I could ever be able to actually make them, though.” Maggie chuckles a little.   
“You’re the best wife in the world,” Maggie stares at her. “She always told me that. She always said that you and me, we were what everyone else wanted to be.”   
And now, it’s Alex’s turn for her eyes to brim with tears and Maggie kisses her softly.   
She takes a deep breath and dropping her hands, she takes her and squeezes them. “Let’s go inside and say goodbye to Amy and the others,” she suggests and Maggie nods, allowing her to guide her back into the house where the rooms are too small and there are still too many people and she already feels like she can’t breathe. Maggie craves the fresh air of the front porch. There’s a heavy mixture of food and perfume in the air and she feels like she’s choking.

Amy is in the dining room, her eyes bloodshot from crying, but she’s almost smiling now as she speaks with one of her colleagues who had come for the funeral.    
When Amy sees Maggie, she sighs in relief as if she was missing and the search party has returned successful. “Hey,” she says and then she and Maggie hug one another.   
“Hey,” Maggie swallows. “Me, Alex and Zola are going to head back to the hotel. I can’t be here anymore,” she then adds in a low enough tone that only Amy can hear.   
Amy nods and squeezes a hand on her shoulder. “Your flight is tomorrow afternoon?”   
Maggie nods. “We should eat breakfast somewhere before we leave,” she offers and Amy seems so happy at the suggestion, she instantly smiles – one of her first of the day.   
“Are you sure you can’t stay longer? We have the will reading and then we’ll be going through the house…” Amy trails off when Maggie shakes her head.   
“You and your brothers should be doing those things…” she trails off, not finishing, but Amy understands what she means to say and her hand squeezes her shoulder again.   
“She was your mom, too, Maggie,” Amy says in a quiet voice.   
Maggie takes a step back as if the words have physically pushed her. “I have to get out of here,” she then looks to Alex. “Where is Zo?”   
“We’ll go find her,” she says, rubbing a hand on her back and then stepping forward, Amy embraces her tightly, whispering something in her ear and she nods in response. Maggie knows it’s about her. “We’ll call you tomorrow morning about breakfast,” she promises as Maggie takes hold of her hand.   
Maggie leads the way, pulling her through the throngs of people, her fingers twined with hers. Being a mother for four years, her ears are now trained to pick up on Zola’s whereabouts and she leads Alex up the stairs to the second floor. Mrs. Shepherd had turned one of the spare bedrooms into a playroom for when her grandchildren visited and today, the kids have been running in and out of there, playing, some too young to not completely understand the gravity of the day.   
Looking into the room now, Maggie sees Zola and the instant she looks at her, she knows her daughter is upset. She's standing there with one shoe on and her hands are balled into fists, hanging down at her sides. Phoebe Sawyer-Grey, the eight-year-old daughter to Micheal, is standing in front of her with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her. Phoebe's brother, eleven-year-old, Zach, is standing to the side.   
“Phoebe, stop being such a brat today,” the older boy sighs heavily, sounding exhausted. As one of the oldest grandchildren, he’s usually in charge of all of the younger ones.   
Phoebe gasps at him. “She’s the one being a brat. Going on and on about Supergirl when my grandmother’s dead.”   
“She’s my grandma, too,” Zola says, wiping at her cheeks.   
“No, she’s not!” Phoebe stamps her foot on the floor. “You shouldn’t even be here!”   
Maggie is about to go in but Alex pushes past her and swiftly enters the room, her eyes flashing in full  _ mama bear _ mode. 

“What is going on in here?” She demands to know, staring at all of the children, some staring at her with wide eyes. Others look guiltily away. Zola sniffles and turns away, tugging on her other shoe. “Zola, get your jacket,” she tells her gently and then looks at Phoebe, who looks ashamed as she bows her head down towards the floor. “Phoebe,” Alex then says, shaking her head. “If your grandmother had just heard you…” she trails off and rubs her forehead. “Come on, Zola. We’re going to head back to the hotel now.”  
“We’re sorry, Aunt Alex. Bye, Zola,” Zach says but Zola doesn’t look up as Alex takes her hand and walks her from the room. Maggie is standing in the hallway and she stoops down and hoists Zola up in her arms.  
“Nobody likes me,” Zola sniffles into Maggie’s shoulder as she is carried down the stairs.  
“Your mommy and me like you,” Maggie says. This is something she knows how to do. She knows how to comfort Zola when she’s hurt and is in pain. She just doesn’t know how to do that for herself. “And nanny Laura likes… _liked_ you as well.”  
The rain is still pouring and they hurry to the black SUV they have rented from the airport and even though it’s warm outside, the rain makes them feel cool in their wet clothes, Alex turns the heat on after starting up the car. The car is silent except for the windshield wipers clearing away the rain as Alex drives down the road but hearing Zola sniffle, Maggie twists in her seat. She rubs a finger on her cheek.  
“Nanny Laura loved you, Zola, and she was your grandma,” Alex tells her.  
“Phoebe’s mean,” Zola whispers, staring out the window.  
“She certainly is,” Maggie agrees, running a hand down the side of her face and then turns forward in her seat again. “But she’s grieving and people do stupid things while mourning. She loves you too.”  
Maggie looks over, seeing how angry and upset Zola is, and at least she knows how to do this, too. If she can focus on Alex and Zola, she can forget about herself for the time being because she has no idea what to do for that. Alex reaches over and covers her hands with one of her and she exhales a deep breath, repositioning so Alex's hand is snug between both of hers.  
“Zola, can I tell you the story of the princess Leia and the Rebel Alliance?” Maggie suggests and in the rearview mirror, she sees Zola nod eagerly. It is one of her favorites and by the time she finishes telling her the familiar tale, Alex has pulled into the parking lot of the Hotel and Zola is smiling again.  
  
  
  
Their hotel room is typical with two double beds and Maggie sinks down onto the one she and Alex have been sleeping in with a heavy sigh. Alex slips out of her heels immediately and goes to Zola’s suitcase to get her something dry to change into. Maggie takes her jacket off, dropping it onto the floor and she pulls off her heels as well, not caring where they land. She grabs the remote and turns on the television, scooting back onto the bed until her legs are stretched and she’s propped up against the headboard. She hears the rain against the windows, can hear the murmured voices of Alex and Zola in the bathroom and Maggie closes her eyes.  
She remembers that last time she spoke with her. 

 

It had been just a couple of weeks ago and she had been come back to the precinct from a crime scene when her cell phone vibrated on her hip. For a moment, she thought it was Alex. She had the day off and she said she would call her on her way to the grocery store like they usually did with one another to know if the other wanted anything special but when Maggie saw it was aunt Laura, her smile remained.   
“Your seventh wedding anniversary is next week,” she had said without any other form of greeting the instant she answered the call.   
“You’re better at remembering that than I am,” Maggie had joked, walking down the hall back towards her office.   
“Oh shut up mija, and tell me what you have planned. You always have the most wonderful things plans. Alex is a very lucky woman,” she had complimented and Maggie grinned, quite proud that she always managed to top the previous year’s anniversary and blow her wife away with surprise every year.   
She had talked to her for almost a half hour about how she was going to be taking Alex up in a hot air balloon and have it take them to a candlelit picnic she had set up for her and Laura  had gushed and suggested things of her own. She took wedding anniversaries very seriously, even though she can’t celebrate her own anymore. Her husband Zach Sawyer had been gone for many years now.

  
Maggie feels a dip in the mattress and opening her eyes, she sees Zola crawling onto the bed. She has changed into a pair of hot pink shorts and a white supergirl t-shirt and Alex has braided her hair.   
“Hey,” Maggie says, her voice hoarse, and she gives a small smile.   
Upon seeing it, Zola smiles, too. “Mommy says we can go swimming in the pool downstairs. Will you come?”   
“I think I might just stay up here for a little bit, Zozo. I’m feeling pretty tired,” Maggie answers truthfully though she knows that being by herself probably isn’t the best thing for her. Still, it’s what she does. Whenever she’s going through something, her first instinct is to cut herself off and go through it alone. Alex rarely stands for it. 

“Want to watch television a little bit first?” Maggie asks and Zola nods, turning around so she’s reclining next to Maggie, stretching her short legs out and spreading them comfortably.   
Maggie flips through stations until she finds Disney channel and after a few minutes, Maggie realizes they’re watching  _ Coco _ . Just what Maggie needs in that moment, she can’t bear it, but Zola is laughing and she leaves it on anyway. 

Maggie looks at her daughter. The past three years and half have been the best of her life. Being with Alex, there had been a few bumps, but they had survived and even when they were going through those times, Maggie always knew that she would be with Alex. And together, they got married and then they had adopted Zola.   
Being a wife and a mom, it was all she had ever wanted without her even realizing it. 

Her aunt Laura had always told her that she would make a magnificent mother someday but Maggie had never believed her. How could she after all that had happened with her own parents? Maggie had never believed she was mother material. Nevertheless, Laura had always had too much faith in her and she had told her that on more one occasion but she had just waved her hand dismissively and told her that she would see what she meant when the time came.

  
After breaking up with Alex because of their fights about children and future Maggie had a pretty bad motorcycle incident and she had been at home recovering, dealing with Alex’s absence and getting a new point of view of her life and her feeling towards motherhood. Laura called her every day, telling her that she would get on the next flight out but Maggie was too ashamed, not wanting her to see her like this.   
“I love her,” Maggie had whispered into the phone.   
“And she loves you, too. You have to fight for her, Maggie,” she had advised her.   
Maggie, too depressed at the moment, shook her head. “She doesn’t want me.”   
“Margarita Sawyer, I did not raise you to give up when you want something as badly as you want Alex. You will fight for her and you will get her back,” Laura had said sternly.   
  


Maggie slowly gets up from the bed, looking back at Zola. “You good?” She asks.   
Zola nods, her eyes still fixated on the television show and Maggie goes into the bathroom. Alex is still wearing her black dress, standing at the counter, and she’s scrunching the ends of her wet hair with a white towel. Maggie stands in the doorway of the bathroom, watching her. She’s beautiful. Maggie has been surrounded with beautiful woman her whole life but the instant she saw her all of those years ago, Alex had stunned her. Maggie will never forget that first moment when she saw her, standing across from her in her suit, telling her to walk away from her crime scene. She had been beautiful and sexy and badass and she hasn’t changed a bit. Maggie still feels completely overwhelmed by her.   
Alex turns her head to look at her, a faint, almost unsure, smile on her face. “Okay?” She asks.   
Maggie hesitates for a moment and then she nods. “Okay,” she answers quietly. She comes to stand behind her and she looks at both of their reflections in the mirror. Her arms come around Alex’s waist and she rests her chin on her shoulder. Alex smiles, resting a hand on one of her arms, leaning her head back against her shoulder. “How long…when you thought your dad died…” There’s a question she wants to ask her but she has no idea how to form it.   
Alex rubs a hand on her arm. “You take as long as you need, Mags.” She turns her head and nuzzles her nose against her cheek. “Me and Zola love you so much,” she whispers.

Maggie brushes her lips across her shoulder before resting them there and she closes her eyes. “I love you both, too,” she murmurs. “I can’t wait until we have another one.”   
Alex smiles. “Maybe tomorrow night, after we get back home, we can have a trying session,” she suggests.   
“Danvers, it’s not as though I can really knock you up,” Maggie almost chuckles, tightening her arms and giving her a squeeze. 

“Well, but we may enjoy it anyway,” Alex says and Maggie does laugh quietly before giving her a soft kiss on the cheek.

* * *

 

_ “Recuérdame _

_ Si sola crees estar _

_ Recuérdame _

_ Y mi cantar te irá a abrazar _

_ Aun en la distancia _

_ Nunca vayas a olvidar _

_ Que yo contigo siempre voy _

_ Recuérdame.” _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Maggie's opinion about not wanting children is completely valid and I respect it. Just as I respect Alex's desire to be a mom.  
> This series clearly belongs to a kind of AU in which Maggie eventually changes her mind, and they adopt Zola.


End file.
